Mirrored Lives
by fortytwo03
Summary: Harry, Sirius, and Remus end up in a dimension where Voldemort was never defeated.  As they try to survive in this darker universe, their alter egos – including a Harry raised by Riddle – are spreading chaos in the world they left behind. NaNoWriMo entry.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Mirrored Lives  
**Author:** fortytwo03  
**E-mail:** fortytwo _(underscore)_ 03 _(at)_ yahoo _(dot)_ com  
**Timeframe:** during OotP (but includes HBP and DH spoilers)  
**Characters:** HP, SB, RL  
**Summary:** Harry, Sirius, and Remus end up in a dimension where Voldemort was never defeated. As they work to survive in this darker universe, their alter egos - a Harry raised by Tom Riddle, a Sirius who never escaped Azkaban, and a Remus who is Albus Dumbledore's personal assassin - are spreading chaos in the world they left behind. NaNoWriMo 2007 entry.  
**Disclaimer:** _Harry Potter_ belongs to J.K. Rowling, who is not me. This disclaimer is applicable to all subsequent chapters in this story.

* * *

**Title:** Mirrored Lives (1/?)  
**Posted:** 11/01/07**  
NaNoWriMo Word Count:** 3,028 words in this chapter, 3,028 words to date, 46,972 words to go. 

**Author's Note:** Well, I've decided to participate in the National Novel Writing Month this year, so you know what that means: quick, frequent updates! Of course, it also means first and second draft posts, but, hey, you can't have everything ;). I'm aiming for daily posts of 1,500-2,000 words each (I have to average 1,667 to hit 50,000 in 30 days), so today's post is longer than the rest will likely be. I have a toddler, so my writing time is during her nap. She generally is good about sleeping for 2-3 hours each day, so I need to generate 750-1000 words per hour. Can I do it? Well, it takes me 5 hours to write 1,000 words of well-edited prose, and 20 minutes to write 500 words of complete BS, so there's a fighting chance. We'll see!

* * *

_**Mirrored Lives**_

Chapter 01  
_In which two mortal enemies are (ever so briefly) like-minded_

* * *

_Dimension A - Canon Universe_

Lord Voldemort was contemplating his current situation. At full power again, his followers back at his side, with most of the wizarding world so far into denial that they considered the mildest of defensive measures tantamount to treason, he seemed to hold all the cards. His only true enemies, Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, were exhausting themselves attempting to thwart just _one_ of his many projects, while having to deal with being maligned in the press, and constantly one step away from prosecution.

Yet, despite all that, he still didn't feel secure. Part of it was that he _wasn't_ truly at full strength again. Oh sure, magically he was as powerful as he ever was; and he did have most of his core followers - his Death Eaters - with him now. Not only that, but the dementors were also back in his camp. It did make for a formidable group. But too many of his other followers and minions were gone, and he was feeling their lack.

For one, he hadn't yet rebuilt his corps of _Imperio_'d spies to anything even vaguely resembling their former level. This seriously compromised his intelligence-gathering ability (not to mention losing both the tactical and entertainment value of kamikaze saboteurs). He did have his Death Eaters, of course, and some of them had modest networks already cultivated, but nothing like what he had before the Incident on Halloween 1981.

As well, full-scale attacks were off-limits, since his army of Inferi was still woefully short of bodies - he did miss having a limitless stream of cannon fodder. Not that his Death Eaters weren't expendable, per se - the only _really_ indispensable person was Voldemort himself, of course - but the twin attributes of thinking and breathing possessed by his (mostly) loyal core group were scarce enough to require a bit of judiciousness about when and how to use them.

So, if the Ministry ever came back from their trip down Denial and planned something big, he could very well be caught off-guard. Even with advance notice, he would be hard pressed to fend off any major attack without ruinous casualties.

Of course, he would be more than able to defend himself - already on the offensive, most likely - long before the Ministry could pull off anything worth worrying about. And Albus Dumbledore, wretched interfering old coot that he was, just didn't have the manpower to be a credible threat (which was a very good thing too, or even with all that Snape could do, he would still be in trouble).

Really, all of that was evading the issue. When it came down to it, the only reason Lord Voldemort was sitting here brooding, instead of enjoying the perks of being an evil overlord, was because of Harry Potter.

Everything that had ever gone _truly_ wrong in his life - not the irritants or the minor setbacks, but the devastating catastrophes - could all be traced back to that one infuriating child.

The annoying brat even got a blow in before he was _born_. That blasted prophecy started it all. Before that, Voldemort hadn't been anxious or worried or concerned for a very long time; there hadn't been a _need_ - he was immortal. Not only that, but he was immensely powerful to boot. He had worked very hard to get to that point - undergone countless dark rituals - and now this whelp was destroying his peace of mind, and eventually, or so the prophecy said, his entire self.

Obviously, this could not be borne.

So he did what anyone with an ounce of self-preservation would do - eliminate the threat before it eliminated you.

Which, of course, led to the aforementioned, thrice-be-damned,_Incident_.

It was a good plan - it should have worked. The vaunted savior was just a baby, no defenses whatsoever outside of the laughable fight his blood traitor father managed to put up. How was he to know that the stupid mudblood would manage give her offspring protection through her _death_!? No one could have guessed that. The only upshot to the entire debacle was that the error, while grievous, was not fatal. As it turned out, that was about the best that could be said about any subsequent meeting with Harry Potter, as well.

Through a combination of Dumbledore's helping hand, a good support system (aside from the Dursleys, of course, although Voldemort really felt that, filthy muggles or not, they had the right of it - Harry Potter _was_ an unnatural freak who _**definitely**_ should have died with his parents), and sheer dumb luck, the little monster not only survived _three?!?_ more encounters, but decisively won two of them, and the best Voldemort could say about the night in the graveyard was that at least he was revived _before_ the brat escaped. Otherwise, he would have had a hard time working off his rage - disembodied spirits just can't perform the Cruciatus curse nearly as well.

Given the fact that the only person he consistently could not defeat was the one person who was destined to kill him and the grounds for his anxiety were clear.

A world without Harry Potter - if Voldemort was going to make any sort of wish, that would be it. He wouldn't have been defeated, forced to roam the earth until he had to have _help_ to return - by Pettigrew, no less. (Such an excruciating, humiliating experience - one that would never again be repeated, mentioned, or even _thought_ about by any or all concerned.) And now he wouldn't be trying to figure out how in the world to kill the Potter spawn before the idiot child killed him - a task that, given past history, seemed unlikely at best.

Of course, the real problem wasn't that Potter _had_ the power to defeat him, so much as that he seemed to be rather keen on_doing_ so. If only he hadn't tried (and failed) to kill the little demon child. Taken him, maybe - raised the little sprog to be a devoted follower. Granted, there were definite problems with the idea, a lot that could have went disastrously wrong, but still - the results had to be better than 14 years as a disembodied spirit.

Not only would this Harry Potter _not_ be trying to kill him (a very big plus in and of itself), but he would bring his uncanny ability to succeed, against all logic, at whatever inherently risky and foolhardy task he set his mind to. That could be _very_ useful indeed. A shame it could never happen.

As he resumed planning his (triumphant) comeback, Voldemort couldn't help but wish for that Harry Potter.

Little did he know that the force of that wish (for he _was_ a very powerful wizard) was enough to cause a magical ripple, of sorts. It wasn't quite enough to do anything on its own, but it searched for a ripple caused by a likeminded soul. . . .

* * *

_Dimension B - Alternate Universe_

Albus Dumbledore was contemplating his current situation. The effective leader of wizarding Britain, his handpicked Order of the Phoenix at his side, with most of the wizarding world united behind him - committed to fighting until Tom Riddle was utterly defeated - he seemed to hold all the cards. His only true enemies, Riddle and his so-called "Knights of Walpurgis", had to be exhausted after carrying on a guerrilla war for the past _twenty-five_ years, one that they showed no sign of winning anytime soon.

Though there was no sign of them losing in the near future, either.

And that was merely _one_ of the reasons why Dumbledore didn't feel secure, despite all his apparent advantages.

Another was because his leadership position was starting to become quite precarious. While the public was still firmly behind him (despite a near-universal sense of frustration toward the never-ending war), quite a few members of the Ministry of Magic had recently begun to question publicly Dumbledore's running of the war. A few had even accused him of deliberately sensationalizing the situation in order to maintain power - as if Tom Riddle was merely leading a few non-violent protests, instead of launching armed attacks every other week.

While the Ministry had always been rife with Knight spies and sympathizers, this was the first time they had ever been strong enough to go public with anti-Dumbledore, and in some cases pro-Riddle, propaganda. The populace was tired of the generation-long conflict, and if they could be persuaded that Tom Riddle wasn't_really_ the boogeyman they had feared for so long, that in fact he was just over zealous and misunderstood, general support for the war would completely disappear. In fact, Dumbledore had heard some disturbing rumors that the Ministry was _already_ making plans to approach Riddle about a truce, followed by a diplomatic effort to negotiate a mutually agreeable settlement - maybe even offer him an official position in the government.

This could not be borne. Dumbledore was furious at the very notion of giving Tom Riddle access to the reins of power - it went against everything he believed in. He simply could not - would not - allow it. In fact, he had already dispatched an Order member to persuade the Ministry to come back around to his way of thinking; accepting any terms short of unconditional surrender from Riddle was a disaster waiting to happen.

Not only did he have to deal with openly treasonous Ministry members, he was also finding that the effort required to keep muggleborns out of Riddle's clutches (which had always been a problem) was rapidly becoming untenable. Dumbledore had always been rather fond of muggleborns, as they, unlike their pureblood counterparts, who were encumbered by centuries of inherited tradition, tended to be open-minded and embraced change. In return, many muggleborns saw Dumbledore as a champion of sorts, as he placed no stock in bloodlines and wizarding tradition, but rather believed ability trumped all. This was a quality that seemed to be in short supply these days, especially among the Knights and their sympathizers, who tended to be from old, established wizarding families.

So it was no surprise that muggleborns tended to be some of Dumbledore's most fervent supporters. Riddle couldn't stand for this, and muggleborn students, along with their families, began disappearing while home over break. The school reacted by keeping muggleborns year-round, but this was of limited use, as, in retaliation, Riddle started hunting them down before they even entered Hogwarts. As a result, Dumbledore was required to bring them to the school at ever-younger ages; now it was to the point that one side or the other generally got to them within a few days after birth.

Of course, as it turned out, getting there first was just half the battle. Riddle was positively fanatical about depriving Dumbledore of as many muggleborns as possible, and he regularly launched raids against the Order creche - stealing the children before they were old enough to defend themselves, and thus reducing the future opposition.

This meant that not only did Dumbledore have to keep the creche staffed with childcare workers - a huge drain on manpower and resources in itself - but he had to keep it hidden and well defended besides, a task which required an ever increasing effort. It was still worth it, though, as every one of those children grew up into a dedicated Order member, completely loyal to Dumbledore.

Except, of course, for the ones captured by Riddle.

And that was turning into a disturbingly high number, especially considering that, except for muggleborns, recruiting for the Order had become far more difficult. Dumbledore had always had a good rapport with his students, and generally, those leaving Hogwarts had provided a steady influx of new blood. However, for several years now, his pupils had never experienced a time without war, and while they paid lip service to the necessity of defeating Riddle, they were loathe to become directly involved in the endless fighting.

The net effect was that Dumbledore had to do more with less, and it was his steadily diminishing Order of the Phoenix that had to pick up the slack. This meant that over the years, the Order had increasingly relied upon tactics that - while effective - weren't exactly fit for public consumption. At the beginning, Dumbledore didn't want to be seen doing anything questionable, but as the war dragged on, expediency became king. Top Ministry officials had their suspicions, but kept their silence - they had been his students once, too - and besides, Dumbledore was a powerful man and their only hope for defeating Riddle; they weren't going to jeopardize their future.

But as the war dragged on without any apparent progress toward victory, it was looking more and more like a false hope. It didn't help that many people remembered how Tom Riddle was once Dumbledore's protege, and a rising star in the wizarding world. Until one day, Riddle had suddenly dropped out of sight, surfacing later at the head of the Knights of Walpurgis and calling for Dumbledore's head.

Dumbledore still didn't understand how he ended up with Tom Riddle, of all people, leading a rebellion against him. Tom had been such a promising student when he came to Hogwarts. A few troubling behaviors, to be sure, but that was only to be expected, given Tom's deprived childhood in the orphanage. But surely Dumbledore's mentoring of young Riddle more than made up for it?

Apparently not, even with all Dumbledore had done for Tom: guiding him at school, persuading Dippet to give Tom an assistant professorship at Hogwarts when he had only just finished his N.E.W.T.S., introducing him to the top wizarding minds and facilitating his rise to prominence. Why, Dumbledore even considered Tom as his second, of sorts. Yet Tom threw it all back in his face, and - not content with merely rejecting Dumbledore - he decided to directly oppose him. And Dumbledore still didn't truly understand why.

But as painful and damaging as it was to be facing off with a former friend, Tom Riddle's defection was still only the secondary cause of his current problems. For all that Riddle had substantial knowledge of how Dumbledore thought and operated, the reverse was likewise true; however good Riddle was, Dumbledore was still better. No, that honor went to something else entirely.

Thinking back, Albus Dumbledore could trace all his current problems back to one specific, much-lamented, _Incident_. Said Incident had, amongst other things, lost him four of his followers, gained him one mortal enemy, and reduced the chances of him surviving this war to somewhere around absolute zero.

It's not as if Dumbledore hadn't done what he could to prevent this turn of events. As soon as he learned that Riddle was aware of both the prophecy and its likely targets, he had rushed to provide adequate protection, even volunteering to be the Secret Keeper himself (if only James would have taken him up on it, rather than foolishly trusting his friends, things would be far better right now).

Of course, in retrospect, maybe Dumbledore should have taken a more proactive approach to the prophecy - forced a confrontation on his own terms, perhaps - something other than the wait-and-see methodology that he had, in fact, adopted. But prophecies are a tricky thing, and he hadn't wanted to prematurely trigger it, and thus risk ending up with a negative - or even fatal - result.

If only Tom Riddle hadn't heard that fateful prophecy, he wouldn't have become so focused on the Potters (which led to the corruption of one of Dumbledore's best agents), he wouldn't have come up with the bright idea of kidnapping little Harry (which led to the deaths of James and Lily Potter), Peter Pettigrew wouldn't have tracked down Sirius Black (which led to Peter's death and Black's imprisonment), and now, most importantly, Albus Dumbledore wouldn't have not-so-little Harry Potter, currently second-in-command of the Knights of the Walpurgis, after his head, thus giving him a fighting chance at winning this insufferable war.

It wasn't just that Potter was convinced that Dumbledore was the Dark Lord in the prophecy, and thus was actively gunning for him - though that would have been bad enough. No, it was also that, even at a mere fifteen, Potter had the courage and ability - not to mention the luck - to succeed where most grown wizards would fail miserably; and he single-mindedly applied this talent to defeating Dumbledore. If only Dumbledore's original plan had worked. Then, not only would he have prophecy boy under his direct control until he was needed, he also could be benefiting from Harry's successes, rather than being battered by them.

A Harry Potter that was _Dumbledore's_ most fervent supporter, not Riddle's - now _that_ was a Harry Potter Dumbledore wished he had.

Dumbledore returned to his contemplations, unaware of the magical ripple his wish caused. Unlike most, which just fade away into nothingness, this ripple happened to come across a perfect match, that appeared at just the right time. The combination was immensely powerful - powerful enough to grant both wizards' wishes...

* * *

As always, please R&R! 


	2. Chapter 2a

**Title:** Mirrored Lives (2/?)  
**Author:** fortytwo03  
**E-mail:** fortytwo _(underscore)_ 03 _(at)_ yahoo _(dot)_ com  
**Posted:** 11/03/07  
**NaNoWriMo Word Count:** 1,364 words in this chapter, 4,392 words to date, 45,608 words to go.  
**Disclaimer:** See first chapter.

**Author's Note:** Okay, I'm a day late already. Not the most auspicious start, to be sure. This may be more of a 36-48 hour updating schedule, in practice, but I am still shooting for daily. This (half) chapter is a bit short, but it is self-contained, and - most importantly - it is ready for posting. So here it is.

* * *

_**Mirrored Lives**_

Chapter 02a  
_In which wishes are granted and dimensions are jumbled - part one_

* * *

_Dimension A - Canon Universe_

Harry couldn't sleep. They were headed back to Hogwarts tomorrow - later today, actually - and Harry was worried about how his godfather would fare, alone again in the dismal house. While having everyone at Order headquarters for Christmas had done wonders for Sirius' state of mind, Harry didn't think it would last long after everyone left. This seemed especially likely, since Sirius had acted off ever since Snape's malicious taunts earlier that evening. Harry was deeply concerned that Sirius would do something dangerously stupid.

Pushing back the covers, Harry thought he'd head down to the kitchen for a quick drink - hopefully it would calm him down enough that he could at least catch a few hours sleep. As he padded down the steps, he saw light coming from the kitchen; a few steps later, and he could hear voices, as well.

"I just . . . I cannot do this anymore, Remus. I am going stark raving mad in this damned house. I'm completely useless here - Snivellus was right about that - and for no reason! Harry is in danger every minute that psychopath is out there, and what am I doing? Just sitting here, _safe_," Harry could hear the disgusted sneer in his voice, "doing sod all to protect him. Bloody hell, I am a coward! Or else I'd tell Dumbledore to bugger off, and go DO something!"

Harry stood stock-still just outside the kitchen, listening as Remus tried to persuade Sirius that, by being there for Harry, he _was_ doing something useful. "Sirius, we have many people who can run around out there, risking their lives to fight Voldemort, but _YOU_ are the only godfather Harry has got - his only family that is worth the name. I know you'd much rather martyr yourself in a blaze of glory, but where would that leave Harry?"

There was silence for a moment, then, "Remus, you know I'd never do anything to hurt Harry, right? I'd do anything for him - I'd_ die_ for him!" Harry's heart clenched as he silently cried, _But I don't want you too!_

Unconsciously echoing Harry, Remus replied, "I don't doubt that you are willing to die for Harry, Sirius. I just wish you were willing to live for him, as well."

Harry couldn't imagine barging in now, figuring a sleepless night was better than trying to face his godfather after overhearing _that_ conversation. _Is staying out of dangerous things really so hard_, he wondered, conveniently forgetting just how much he hated being kept out of the loop the past summer. He started to turn around, but his foot caught on something and he tripped, making a small but noticeable racket.

As Harry was picking himself off the floor, Remus poked his head around the doorway, and queried, "Harry? What are you doing down here?" Harry flushed at being caught out, and stammered out something incoherent about not sleeping and drinking and definitely not eavesdropping as he walked into the kitchen, and saw Sirius sitting at the table, a half-full bottle of firewhisky at hand.

"Harry! What brings you down here - couldn't sleep either, eh?" Sirius gestured expansively with the bottle as he invited Harry to have a seat. "We'd be happy to have you sit and chat with us old, crotchety folk."

Normally Harry loved to spend time with his godfather, but right now he felt he'd better collect his drink and escape back upstairs as soon as possible. "Er, thanks for the invite, but I was just coming to get a drink. . ." Harry trailed off as the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

"Harry? Is something . . ." Remus broke off sharply, pulled out his wand, and started scanning the room. Sirius quickly followed suit, dropping his bottle of firewhisky as he looked for danger.

"So you feel it, too," said Harry, feeling both relieved that he wasn't nuts, and disquieted, as the feeling intensified. "What is it?"

"Strong magic," said Sirius grimly, "strong enough to overpower the wards on this blasted place."

Lupin added, "Or bypass them entirely - there should be dozens of alarms going off now."

Harry was about to ask what was going to happen, and how bad, exactly, it was going to be, when he felt a strong tug on his insides; it was sort of like with a portkey, but, instead of focused behind the navel, it was all over. He interrupted Sirius and Remus as they were trying to find the origin of the magic with a shaky, "Sirius," as the tug repeated itself, only stronger this time.

"The magic - it's doing something to me! It's like it's trying to . . . _pull_ me somewhere." Harry flinched as yet another, even stronger, tug hit him. Sirius dashed over and grabbed Harry, all while yelling for Lupin to do something.

"Sirius, it's a magical force, not physical! We need to magically anchor ourselves to Harry and to this room," said Lupin, as he grabbed Harry's hand and hurriedly cast a spell. The force of the tugs, which by now were quite painful and mere seconds apart, weakened significantly. They resumed intensifying shortly afterward, though at a somewhat slower rate. As Sirius repeated the spell while holding onto Harry's other hand, the tugs momentarily lessened again, but soon regained their previous strength.

Only now, though, both Sirius and Remus were affected by the magic as well. The two adult wizards were casting spell after spell, trying to anchor themselves and Harry to the room as the force of the tugs reached their height. Harry could feel himself being pulled inexorably away from the kitchen, and from the frenzied increase in spellcasting, apparently Sirius and Remus felt the same thing.

Initially, the mass of spells seemed to have an effect, as a surge of magic started to yank Harry back. For a moment, he felt like he was being ripped apart by the two opposing forces, but then the magical tethers holding them to Number 12 Grimmauld Place snapped. The backlash from the failed spells rebounded on the group, and Harry fell unconscious. There was a bright flash as the mysterious surge of magic succeeded in its task, pulling Harry away, and - thanks to the binding spells - taking Sirius and Remus along for the ride.

As the light from the spell faded, the kitchen returned to normal - except, of course, for the three unconscious bodies lying on the floor in a puddle of spilled firewhisky.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Weasley - who had been awoken by the noise of the futile fight - stormed in the kitchen, ready to yell at whichever of her children was causing the ruckus. When she registered the three motionless bodies, she shrieked loud enough to wake the dead, and rushed over to see if they were alive. Upon discovering that, a) they were all breathing, and b) they all smelled of alcohol, Mrs. Weasley jumped to the logical (Sirius was involved, after all), but erroneous, conclusion that they were all thoroughly drunk and had merely passed out. Several other Order members then flung themselves into the room, wands raised, just as Molly was beginning her tirade on irresponsible adults who shouldn't be allowed anywhere near children, and their corrupting influence on otherwise sane individuals.

As Arthur tried, in vain, to calm his wife down, the rest of the Order members took it upon themselves to ferry the unconscious lot to their beds, thus escaping - for the moment, at least - a truly prodigious rant. In all the hubbub, it never occurred to anyone to question Mrs. Weasley's analysis of events.

* * *

As always, please R&R! 


	3. Chapter 2b

**Title:** Mirrored Lives (3/?)  
**Author:** fortytwo03  
**E-mail:** fortytwo _(underscore)_ 03 _(at)_ yahoo _(dot)_ com  
**Posted:** 11/04/07  
**NaNoWriMo Word Count:** 1,850 words in this chapter, 6,242 words to date, 43,758 words to go.  
**Disclaimer:** See first chapter.

**Author's Note:** Last chapter, I was so fixated on the fact that I was late that I completely forgot to thank my reviewers! That is just unforgivable - forty lashes with a wet noodle for me. Rest assured that I hang onto every word that falls from the keyboards of my precious, precious reviewers. I might not send individual responses - I only have so many words a day, and I imagine y'all would rather have more story than responses. But I keep my email open, and feverishly pounce on every new piece of mail the moment it arrives. Reviews make my day :).

And hits! I am just overwhelmed with the number of hits this story has gotten so far - 298!!!! That is a record by far for me - hope everyone is enjoying it. I've also set a few other personal records with this chapter: The most chapters I've ever posted for a single story, the most total words I've ever written for a single story. And there is still so much more to come!

* * *

_**Mirrored Lives**_

Chapter 02b  
_In which wishes are granted and dimensions are jumbled - part two_

* * *

_Dimension B - Alternate Universe_

Harry Potter was lying in his bed, within the _very_ well warded Riddle House, replaying the day's events. It had been Harry's first Mudblood raid since he had been formally elevated to Riddle's second-in-command. _Uncle Tom, rather - along with Uncle Peter, the man __**did**__ pretty much raise me._ The raid had been enormously successful: they had gotten all the infants and toddlers, most of the pre-schoolers, and a healthy smattering of the older kids. _Thirty-seven,_ Harry thought with pride, _thanks to us, there are thirty-seven less Mudbloods out there._

There were still the families of the former Mudbloods to track down, of course, but that could be left till morning. Really, it was completely unconscionable the way Dumbledore treated his Mudbloods - acting like a benevolent grandfather and mentor to them from their infancy on up, and then granting them prime positions in his oh-so-prestigious Order of the Phoenix the minute they came of age._It is just sick the way he so completely envelopes them into the wizarding world, as if they never had Muggle parents at all. It is a betrayal, pure and simple._

_Of course, what else can be expected from the august Albus Dumbledore: Order of Merlin, First Class, and Grand Sorcerer; Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards; Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot; Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; and, last but certainly not least, Dark Lord extraordinaire?_ Harry thought bitterly. The rest of the wizarding world may have no idea what depths Dumbledore had sunk to, but Harry - and the rest of the Knights - knew too much to blindly accept the facade that Dumbledore presented to the rest of the world.

No, thanks to Tom Riddle, the Knights knew him for what he was: a ruthless and power-hungry wizard. _And a back-stabbing murderer,_ Harry seethed. _My parents were loyal to him - they __**believed**__ in him, the poor deluded fools - yet Dumbledore murdered them without a single qualm the minute they became a liability._ Even without the prophecy, or any of Dumbledore's other crimes, Harry would have fought against him just for that.

_Thank goodness Uncle Tom rescued me from that bastard's clutches!_ It would have been a disaster if Dumbledore had succeeded in keeping Harry under his thumb: what chance would the world have if its prophesized savior - _I really hate that word_ - had been brainwashed to love and serve the Dark Lord? _Not much of one, that's for sure._

Harry was just about to drift off to sleep when a sudden surge of magic swirled around him. Grabbing his wand from under his pillow as he jumped out of bed, Harry was about to alert the guards when he felt a strong tug throughout his body, one that was quickly repeated._That can't be good._

Harry yelled for help as he tried to counter the steadily increasing effects of the magic. None of the spells he tried had much of an effect, and all too soon there was a _flash_ as the spell pulled Harry away, knocking him out as he went, and leaving an unconscious body behind. Seconds later several Knights burst in, finding their second-in-command collapsed on the floor, with no clue whatsoever as to the cause of his condition.

_oOo ooOoo ooOoOoo ooOoo oOo_

Remus Lupin sat at his kitchen table, plotting out the angle of attack for his latest assignment from Dumbledore.

_"My dear boy, thank you for coming so quickly. Lemon drop?" Remus declined, and - pleasantries dispensed with - Dumbledore quickly got down to business. _

_"I have no doubt that you are well aware of the increasing hostility evidenced by particular Ministry officials towards myself and my manner of conducting this war. While there has always been a certain amount of grumbling - heaven knows, bureaucrats hate to lose even a fraction of their power - over the past six months it has been approaching outright mutiny. _

_"So far they have only directly defied me once - last summer when blackmailed me into accepting Dolores Umbridge as my new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I had initially refused, of course, as teacher selection is the sole prerogative of the Headmaster, but in response they said that if I didn't do so, they would publicly accuse me of using Hogwarts to indoctrinate students, brainwashing them to form my own private army. It was clear they were deadly serious, and fully capable of carrying out their threat - obviously, they had corrupted one or more members of the press, and at that point I had no idea who the guilty ones were. _

_As a result, I decided dealing with Umbridge was the lesser evil, graciously accepted their spy, and have spent the past months ferreting out the disloyal journalists. I have now identified the traitors, and just in time: they had been setting up an underground news network, and were nearly ready to begin spreading their propaganda on a large scale." _

_"Is that my target, then?" _

_"Oh, no, that doesn't require your special touch - it's quite obvious to all that those journalists were in league with Riddle and his Knights. In fact, I've already sent a team to take care of them and their treasonous media outlet - should be done in time to make the evening Prophet, actually. _

_"No, I have something else in mind for you. . . ." _

Dumbledore had went on to describe his assignment in detail, but the bottom line was that some Ministry officials had crossed the line, going far beyond dissent to the point of committing treason. While that was most certainly a criminal offense, arresting them and putting them on trial would just give them a forum for their treasonous views and inevitably fracture the populace. In the end, Riddle would be the only one to gain from the pointless spectacle.

Which was why Dumbledore wasn't going to handle it that way. Instead, he went to Remus Lupin.

Remus was a problem-solver. While any fool could kill, and many were skilled in the art of disinformation, few were able to combine the two as proficiently as Remus did. Remus' specialty was removing Dumbledore's opponents, and engineering the elimination so that the resulting fallout advanced Dumbledore's agenda, rather than harmed it. Most of Remus' work fell into one of two categories: 1) where he "disappeared" or outright assassinated his target, while framing the Knights for it; and 2) where he caused his target himself to be accused as a Knight or sympathizer, generally by using _Imperio_ or another mind-altering spell to manipulate the target's behavior.

Finishing up his planning, Remus figured he ought to head to bed._It's rather late, and I've got a busy day tomorrow._ Gathering up his notes and diagrams, Remus wondered when he had become so blase about mass murder. _Executions, really - these are __**not**__ innocent people. After all, the lowest circle of hell is reserved for traitors - I'm just sending them there a bit early, before their treachery has time to bear fruit. Shame no one did that to Black - maybe then James and Lily and Peter might still be alive. And James' son wouldn't be idolizing his parents' murderer. . . ._

Shaking his head sharply, Remus pushed those thoughts away, back into the box where they belonged. _I can't change the past. All I can do is prevent future traitors from harming more innocent people. And if I'm going to do __**that**__, I need to get some sleep._

Pep talk completed, Remus quickly completed his nighttime routine, settled into bed, and was asleep within minutes. His slumber didn't last long, though, as he was rather rudely awakened by a series of strong jerks. Head still muddled from sleep, Remus had just enough time to grab his wand before he was magically dragged away from his flat in a burst of light, an identical figure left in his wake.

_oOo ooOoo ooOoOoo ooOoo oOo_

In a maximum security cell in Azkaban - one deep within the prison, and always attended by dementors - an emaciated dog lay shivering on the damp stone, pressed into the corner furthest from the foul creature guarding the door. He slept fitfully, whimpering when the nightmares invaded his dreams. They all revolved around one single figure - the Betrayer.

In his dreams - as well as his waking nightmares - the Betrayer was solely responsible for every iniquity Sirius Black had ever suffered. In reality, this was, by and large, actually an accurate perception. Certainly the Betrayer was the direct cause of Sirius' unjust incarceration, as well as the violent deaths of James and Lily Potter - Sirius' best friend along with said best friend's wife. Not to mention, the Betrayer had lied and manipulated them long before that tragic Halloween night.

Sirius was obsessed with the Betrayer. Waking or sleeping, throughout torturous dreams and nightmarish memories, the unhappy reality of the Betrayer gave him something to focus on. This fixation - along with his Animagus ability - kept him sane, relatively speaking. And it gave him a goal: should Sirius ever be free of this hellhole, he would hunt down the Betrayer and exact vengeance for all his crimes.

Sirius longed for that day. And as he woke up to find himself in the grasp of a strong magical force - one that seemed determined to pull him away from the cell that had been his home for over fourteen years - Sirius felt a faint stirring of hope that today might be that day.

A brief flash of light lit his cell, unseen by the dementors and unnoticed by the other prisoners - their minds too far gone to appreciate the unusual nature of the event. Where the black dog had been before, there was now an unconscious, shivering, black-haired man in his place.

* * *

As always, please R&R! 


End file.
